Emiya
by DragoonofTime
Summary: Shirou Emiya has fought over a thousand battles. Never once has he retreated. This is a tale of his final mission. Based on a conversation in Fate/Extra. Occurs in the middle of a series that is currently in its conceptual stage. One-shot.


There was one hour left. I was running through the halls as rapidly as my legs would carry me. Guards up ahead. With a small twinge of regret, I cut them down. Fifty-seven minutes. It seems like the Harweys were doing anything and everything to try to stop me. There was no time to pause and wonder why. The core they had created to produce energy for their company was far too unstable. They either didn't know or just simply didn't care. When it went live in fifty-six and a half minutes, it would go sky high and take half of this continent with it. It's ironic. I spent so many years as a Counter Guardian, a servant of the Earth itself, trying to kill myself because of things like this. When I was freed from my contract and finally returned to this time, I kept doing the things that I had once so hated. Why was this? Because I was shown just how powerful this dream was. A world where everyone could be saved. The ever-distant utopia. My father worked for it. He rescued me from that fire that had destroyed everyone I had known. She had worked to make her kingdom into the very Avalon she now rested in. My younger self overcame me empowered by them. And my son, who is turning into me at almost a frightening pace, is being empowered by these ideals to train in the same thaumaturgy as me. To all of us, except young Arthur, it was worthwhile to kill some to save many. He was still too young to accept that. In time, he'll learn. That's why I, Shirou Emiya, had hated my idealistic tendencies for so long. I lost sight of my true goal. I started to regain that when – Swish!

The walls on either side of me opened up. Half a dozen guards approached. Judging from their gleaming silver armor, these were elite guardsmen. They weren't pulling any punches. The Harweys must not know how dangerous their core was. How they had gotten around laws and bought up a third of the world was beyond me. This seemed to be status quo since I have returned to this timeline. No matter their size, the Harweys' core could not activate. I wouldn't let it!

The guardsmen readied their weapons. I knew where and when they'd shoot. One perk of being a Counter Guardian was that you would get involved in thousands of battles. Fights against any person or organization who threatened balance were what I did every day in order to restore balance from a potentially apocalyptic situation. There are a lot more of the situations than most people realize. These countless skirmishes honed my battle skills so sharply that I could instinctually know the flow of a battle before it happened. I could reasonably guess that they were going to aim at my chest and, judging from where they were holding the firearms, at full auto too. I would leap up into the air and then eliminate them with blades when I landed. I redirected all available prana into my legs. I could feel the magical energies filling in the imperfections of my leg muscles and reinforcing them to the point where they were solid as steel. This process took less than a second. The slight gap of time was all I needed in order to jump up into the air as they fired. The bullets sprayed the end of the hall harmlessly. Preparing the second phase of my plan I utter the incantation that has graced my lips time and again. "Trace, on!" Almost hypnotically, this simple phrase sends my mind into a completely different place. It gains an almost computer-like component that handles the magic I do.

_**Pulling from the hill of swords…**_

Gravity was beginning to reverse my leap.

_**0.2 seconds until impact…**_

_**Judging the concept of creation…**_

I was recreating a pair of blades that were forged so many years ago by the an old Chinese blacksmith.

_**Hypothesizing the basic structure…**_

_**Duplicating the composition material…**_

_**Imitating the skill of its making…**_

_**Sympathizing with the experience of its growth…**_

These weapons were ordered to be created by the emperor. From this order came the twin short swords, Kanshou, the black Yang sword, and Bakuya, the white Yin sword. These weapons, made because they were forced to be, had no pride. When I found them, they were blank slates. There was no accumulated history.

_**Reproducing the accumulated years…**_

They would see me through many of my countless battles.

_**Excelling every manufacturing process…**_

_**0.1 seconds until impact…**_

_**Time for projection:0.05 seconds…**_

_**Projection: start…**_

I crashed down on top of the first guard. The momentum that gravity granted my swords rendered this guard's armor useless. I pull the swords from his body, duck under a stream of gunfire, and Bakuya's white glow becomes tinged with read. A body falls to the ground. I utter the first line of a spell that would change the world to that which was within my mind. "I am the bone of my sword…" My voice, reverberating off the walls due to being laden with prana as to suggest to the room that it should change to suit me, found its way to me swords. The swords, now reinforced and made even sharper, set to work on disposing of the other four guards. Kanshou was no longer entirely black. Bakuya was no longer white. Before I have time for the regret to set in again, I hear the march of boots. Lifting my head, I saw a platoon of green armored men. These were shock troopers from the full military. Forty-one minutes. How would I eliminate twenty-six soldiers so in enough time to still make it through the facility and reach the core? One of the soldiers in the far back had a rocket launcher. I had a strategy worked out in the time it took him to make ready.

_**Pulling from the hill of swords…**_

_**Time until missile launch: 3 seconds…**_

_**Judging the concept of creation…**_

I was to call upon the shield again.

_**Hypothesizing the basic structure…**_

_**Duplicating the composition material…**_

_**Imitating the skill of its making…**_

_**Sympathizing with the experience of its growth…**_

It had no name, but it could be summoned with the use of its master's, Aias. This a Noble Phantasm, the physical mystery, which was immortalized by tales of the Trojan War. It stopped the javelin of Hector. Hector's javelin was also a Noble Phantasm. It could not be stopped. Yet, this bronze shield, covered in seven layers of ox's hide, stopped it. One, two, three, four, five, six layers were stripped away. The shield of Aias proved to be the stronger of the two mysteries.

_**Reproducing the accumulated years…**_

Since then, its physical form has disappeared. It has now become a seven layered bounded field of incandescent energy that takes the form reminiscent of a seven petal flower. The same as that which sprang from Aias' blood after he was slain. This new form can stop any projectile. Each of the seven layers has the strength of a fortress wall.

_**Excelling every manufacturing process…**_

The Aias would catch the missile.

_**Time for projection: 2 seconds…**_

_**Time until missile launch: 2 seconds…**_

It would detonate. I would be protected. The blast would be redirected.

_**Time until missile launch: 1 second…**_

_**Time for projection to be completed: 1 second…**_

I uttered the second line of my spell: "Steel is my body and fire is my blood…"

_**Missile launch: now…**_

_**Time until impact: 5 seconds…**_

_**Projection: complete…**_

_**Awaiting activation…**_

In need of reinforcing the shield, I uttered the third line of my spell: "I have created over a thousand blades…" The world seemed to start bending and warping minutely at the suggestion of the incantation.

_**Time until impact: 1 second…**_

"Rho Aias!" The proclamation of the Phantasm's name brought forth the miracle. The seven layered bounded field appeared. It bloomed forth from my hand befitting its flowery appearance. The pain also blossomed up my arm. Projections of a high enough level always caused pain like this. The Aias caught the missile. It detonated. Pain raced along my outstretched arm. The Aias and I were directly connected. I felt its pain. The explosion and shrapnel took out nine soldiers. The remaining seventeen were clustered. The rocket soldier would not make the mistake of launching another missile. They opened fire and tried to flank me. I couldn't move the Aias once projected. I could project another, but that would take too much time and prana. I couldn't afford to waste much more of either. I rolled to the side. The Aias shattered when my connection to it was severed. I project a basic knife and slide it into a chink in a nearby soldier's armor. He falls to the ground. Sixteen left. The black bow came out next. It was projected in the same fashion as all the other weapons. The soldiers started to spread a little. It wouldn't matter for what I had planned. Concentrate.

_**Pulling from the hill of swords…**_

_**Judging the concept of creation…**_

_**Hypothesizing the basic structure…**_

_**Duplicating the composition material…**_

_**Imitating the skill of its making…**_

_**Sympathizing with the experience of its growth…**_

The sword Caladbolg was to be my savior. Originally, this sword was a Noble Phantasm that was launched into legend because it was the blade destined to defeat the Irish hero, Cú Chulainn. I found this sword, analyzed it, and added it to the Blade Works, to the hill of swords.

_**Reproducing the accumulated years…**_

_**Excelling every manufacturing process…**_

_**Adding additional modifications…**_

Since then, it has become a powerful arrow. By warping the blade into a drill shape and compressing it via magic, this sword could be loosed from a bow as a Broken Phantasm.

_**Time for projection: 2 seconds….**_

_**Projection: start…**_

As a Noble Phantasm, Caladbolg has the properties of an extremely sharp sword. Exaggerated, this ability could become a large explosion of power. That was a Broken Phantasm. By pushing more prana into a Noble Phantasm than was required to activate its properties, it becomes broken and would explode upon impact. Basic math dictates that this would result in a fantastic explosion.

_**Time for projection: 1 second...**_

The bullets were coming directly at me now. I could shrug these off. Applying reinforcing prana to the muscles in my upper body and into my armor would ensure that they were no more than annoying. Ugh! Unless, they hit my leg…

_**Projection Complete...**_

I… need to push through the pain. Smack! The floor met with my face. I was no longer able to stand. I was on my stomach. My upper left thigh is on fire. The shock troops were approaching for an assured kill. Caladbolg had appeared in my right hand. My bow was still in my left. With my leg in this state, I couldn't even stand to use it. Was this supposed to be my second end? Images started to play in my head. I was on my knees. Two people had guns to my head. I had saved one only a few days prior. I looked up at him. The butt of the pistol was brought to my cheek. I shake my head hard to make the images go away. I didn't need that right now. I had to figure out how not to die again. My only hope was Caladbolg. In my state, I couldn't stand to fire it from my bow. I wouldn't be able to take the proper stance. Maybe I could in a few minutes once I could divert enough prana to my leg to heal it enough so that I could at least put some pressure on it. I didn't have that kind of time. Wait a second. Bows weren't the only weapon I could project that could fire arrows. There was a reason crossbows were invented. I pull from the hill of swords the designs for a crossbow. Unfortunately, I have never encountered one that was a Noble Phantasm. As such, this crossbow was going to break from the strain of firing a Broken Phantasm. I pour prana into it. Filling in gaps, it becomes hard as iron. It would have to do. I could get one shot. If I messed up, I wouldn't have enough time to project another arrow of any kind and a crossbow. I would have to make this the perfect shot. I place the sword-arrow into the position where a bolt would go. I pull back on the string. Now, they are beginning to see me struggle. They know something is up. The soldiers stop the bullets long enough to see what I'm up to. I take aim at the wall behind them. Caladbolg starts to receive the prana it needs from me. Soon enough, the prana has overloaded the weapon. The crossbow was worse for the wear. I squeeze the trigger. "Caladbolg!" The crossbow implodes in my hands the second the arrow takes flight. The drill turns through the air until it hits a wall several hundred meters behind the guards. Their brief moment of laughter at my plight and the fact that they thought I missed gives way to terror as the shear destructive force of explosion tears through the facility and the troops alike. I actually have to cover my head. That was a little closer than I would have liked. There is one last soldier. He is obviously one of those who tries to go out in a blaze of glory as he tries to take a combat knife to my back. I roll to the left. I get up, gingerly. I force more prana than was advisable into my left leg. It started to glow. It was healing. Placing more weight than prudent onto my right leg, I stood, ready for combat. I project the same knife he is using. The fourth line of my chant is uttered: "Unaware of loss, nor aware of gain…" I could feel a certain element of strength return to my left leg as the chant strengthens to it. It was still tender, but at least I would be able to walk. The soldier, unimpressed by my words, lunges forward. In a single move, I gripped his arm at the wrist, twisted it, forced him to drop his knife, and stab him in the back. I feel the same remorse as always for having to take a life. For many to be protected, a few had to be sacrificed. As much as I hated it, not everyone could be saved. So I would save as many as I could.

The collateral damage from Caladbolg was a mixed blessing. The hole from the explosion allowed me to drop several levels. On the downside, I no longer had any idea where I was. Wondering around with an injured leg was a good way to get myself killed… again. Last time I had an injury this debilitating, it was to my right arm. I was reduced to using only one handed weapons. Against Berserker. Even in my Reality Marble I stood no chance. I lost that fight. I shudder as I remembered the final blow from that beast's stone slab of a sword. I shake my head again and continue. Eventually, I found a stairwell and got myself back on track. Twenty minutes. On the dot. I had to hurry. Several other guards tried to stop me. They didn't last long. Many seemed demoralized because I destroyed an entire platoon and news was spreading. That was fine. Less guards meant I can focus on maybe making a plan to disable the core when I got that far. As impressive as I could be as a walking armory, if you needed a plan in advance, good luck. So many people could attest to that. How did I even survive as I did? After several minutes of self-reflection on my lack of skill at planning, I eventually made my way to the reactor room. Here is where my real work would begin.

From the schematics I had seen prior to coming here, it appeared that at the very top of the core was a failsafe switch. Pull that, and it would never come online. That would be the first thing I try. Except there are no machines to put me up there. And I can't jump, even with reinforcement, thanks to my leg. Maybe there was something on ground level to trigger the failsafe. I limped towards one of the terminals nearby. There is nothing here that is usable. It just has a countdown until the activation of the core, a temperature gauge, and a check on the energy output lines. Puttering about the room, I couldn't find anything of use. The manual failsafe at the top of the core was the only way. I could try to jump. Maybe I was wrong about my injury. Surely enough time had passed that it was almost healed. I forced prana into my legs again. I crouch and the pain I received as reward knocked me down. There was too much damage to my thigh to attempt to jump. There were only four minutes left. It would take at least seventeen to heal my leg completely. There is only one thing left to do. I have to destroy it. But how do I contain the blast? I guess… I guess I would have to take it into my world.

The rest of the incantation is chanted. "Withstood pain to create many weapons, waiting for one's arrival. I have no regrets. This is the only path." Every word reverberates around the room. The words are forcing the world into accepting my reality. I pause. How true. This is the only path. Ever since Kiritsugu saved me from that fire, he handed me my destiny: I was to become a hero, just like him. "My whole life was Unlimited Blade Works!" I slash my right hand through the air to complete the spell. The ring of flames issued forth from around my feet. I willed them to expand and include the core in my Reality Marble.

When the flames clear, the familiar landscape of my imagined terra, my Reality Marble, the manifestation of my soul, the Unlimited Blade Works, was brought to my eyes. It was outdoors at twilight. The landscape was desert-like. Thousands of blades, bows, armors, and other tools of war are littered about the landscape. All are impaled into the ground as markers would be in a cemetery. How was it fitting that Shirou Emiya would end his life here? The only thing that was unusual about this was that a portion of the core room was directly in front of me. Blade Works on any side of it. It was fully contained. Hopefully, the bounded field that gave this place partition from the real world would be strong enough to contain the blast. I didn't come here with the intention to die, but I guess Gaia had other plans for me. The image of my son is before my eyes. Arthur… I'm sorry. I hope… I hope that you'll forgive me for leaving you. I spent my whole life chasing after her, and now, I have to leave you behind. You'll understand… someday. Saber. An image of my son's mother appears before me. I think… I think I'll finally catch up with you. Wait… just a bit longer. Please? I shake my head. I need to focus right now. There are already tears welling up in my eyes. The two people I love the most. And I felt that I was abandoning one. Without another moment's, I call my bow to hand. I needed to focus on the task at hand. No more distractions. It flies from somewhere to the left of me on this hill. From beside the portion of the room that came with me to this place, comes Caladbolg. I pull it back on the bows string. The sword-arrow starts humming with magical energy.

I close my eyes. Memories start playing beneath my eyelids. This time, I don't even try to stop them. Kiritsugu's face is looking down at mine. Smiling. He was happy that he had found someone to save from this terrible fire. I would later learn that a fight with his enemy started that fire. I was eight then. Ten years later, I'm looking into another face. The blonde-haired green-eyed woman struck me with her beauty. Her hair and face shimmered in the moonlight of the shed. "I ask of you this," she says, "Are you my master?" Together, Saber and I would fight through the Fifth Holy Grail War. Along the way, a man in red, Archer, a man who I hated but didn't know why, inspired both me and Saber. He gave his life so that we could escape from Berserker's wrath. It was a shame the Heracles was summoned in such a form. If he were a different class, then he could have been an ally. Saber and I would avenge Archer on the road to end the conflict. Things left unresolved from the Fourth were resolved. The fire from ten years ago would not occur again. In the end, Saber embraced her ideals and gave up on her wish to use the Grail to turn back the hands of time so that she never pulled the sword from the stone. So that she would never become king. So she would not have to disguise herself and pull away from her subjects. So that many more people may have lived. She came to accept that she had pulled the sword for the better. The lives she ended were to realize the dream for making Britain into Avalon. The lives she ended protected those of her subjects. Altria Pendragon had made peace with all that had plagued her during the time when she had lived. This empowered me. After she disappeared with the conclusion of the War, I would follow that path laid out before me. I followed the path of the woman I loved and the woman who loved me. I began to chase after her. The years went on, and I began to lose sight of her. I began to lose sight of her ideals and my father's. The battles hardened me. More years went by. I kept fighting. I kept saving people. I couldn't accept that everyone couldn't be saved. I grew to resent my path. For this line of work, my reward was an execution from the very people I saved days prior. In that moment, I made a contract with Gaia to give me the power to help people. So that I could become a hero. It made me a Counter Guardian. I was summoned time and again to places. I would decimate armies, organizations, individuals, and, on one occasion, an entire country. I questioned the killings. I couldn't see the other side of my ideals anymore. I couldn't see that if there was an that people had to die to save others. I couldn't accept it even though I had helped Saber accept it so long ago. I became desperate. I wanted to create a time paradox by killing my younger self so that I would never become a Counter Guardian. Except I couldn't. The very ideals I tried to stamp out, turned on me and overcame me. Shirou Emiya, master of the Fifth Saber, overcame the servant Archer, the Counter Guardian EMIYA. I started to see the power of the ideals I so despised. I embraced them again. I was summoned into the Fifth Holy Grail War as Archer again. I figured out that this was a third parallel timeline to the one I had come from and the one where my younger self overcame me to be the second. This time, I gave Shirou Emiya the tools he needed to avert an apocalypse. I would disappear from that timeline prematurely, but I knew what I was capable of at the age of eighteen. I was one of those that just needed the proper push. I was summoned into the War a third time. This was the timeline I was familiar with. This was the timeline where I had come from. I gave my younger self the inspiration to become a hero. I gave my life to end let them escape from Berserker. This inspiration from Shirou made Saber embrace her ideals. Shirou would pursue them completely because of her. I would pursue them completely because of her. The cycle was completed. Shirou Emiya was set on the path to become a hero. The contract fulfilled, I was returned to that same timeline, seventy years after the war. Somehow, there was a child of one waiting for me. Our child. The child of Saber and Shirou somehow sent through time. Judging from stories Saber told, it was Merlin's doing. He sent this tiny child through time to his father so because Altria needed to keep up her deception to Britain. His name was Arthur, after her disguised name. I raised him. For better or worse, I instilled the dreams and ideals of three heroes into him. He is turning into me. If he is the future, I have entrusted it into good hands.

I opened my eyes. My face was wet. No time to wipe away the tears. The Broken Phantasm was ready. I would see this through to the end. I took aim at the core. "Caladbolg!" The drill-sword-arrow pierced the metal sphere. The nuclear material made contact. The whole world went white. Saber. Kiritsugu. Shirou Emiya became a hero, didn't he?

**Disclaimer:** _Fate/stay night_, _Fate/Zero_, _Fate/hollow ataraxia,_ _Fate/EXTRA, _and _Fate/Extra CCC_ are all owned by Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon. All characters therein, including Shirou Emiya, Kiritsugu Emiya, and Saber are their property. Concepts therein are also their property. This story was inspired by an exchange with the servant Archer, Shirou Emiya, during the game _Fate/Extra_. The events, aside from stopping a nuclear meltdown, are never fleshed out. This provided a natural place for a story. The references to a son, Arthur Emiya, are references to a character of my own creation. His true story picks up where this one leaves off. Any references to returning to this timeline is based on a theory about the nature of the _Fate/stay night_ Visual Novel and the character of Archer. If there is enough interest, I will elaborate.


End file.
